


facing forwards

by 101places



Series: trauma days [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Bobbi POV, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Other characters mentioned but only these two appear, Post-Episode: s03e10 Maveth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 22:29:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16962672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/101places/pseuds/101places
Summary: After the mission at Gloucestershire Castle, Bobbi finds Simmons trying to treat her injuries.( AKA: Bobbi & Simmons trauma bonding )





	facing forwards

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I have more uplifting fanfics in the pipeline
> 
> Anyway, here have some Bobbi & Simmons bonding. I might write a follow-up to this eventually, but we'll see
> 
> As always, I'll die for you if you leave kudos/comments & thanks for reading my BS!

3am was the perfect time to wake up.

Or, well, no it wasn’t. Bobbi knew it wasn’t, but she’d long-since learnt that when she woke it would be impossible to return to sleep. So if she had to be awake, she might as well make the most of her time.

So she got out of bed, got herself cleaned and dressed, and made a beeline for the training room. If she punched a bag for a few hours, then maybe by the time everyone else woke her mind would be clear enough for her to feign being a functional human for just a little while longer.

...That being said, today she didn’t think anyone would notice if she wasn’t particularly functional- indeed, she’d be extremely surprised if the rest of her team were functional, themselves, after the disaster of yesterday.

Most days allowed her to think of yesterday as a disaster- such were the perks of working for SHIELD- but yesterday had been a particular level of disaster that wasn’t so common.

Yes, it had ended with something great- Grant Ward dead. But what it had taken to get there wasn’t anything that could be celebrated. Even now, not knowing anything close to the full picture, Bobbi was aware of that.

Rosalind Price was dead, which was something that Coulson was unlikely to move on from any time soon. Lash- or, rather, Dr Garner- was free once again, and had killed a dozen Inhumans already. Fitz and Coulson had been made to experience that hellish alien world, and had confirmed that there would be no bringing Will Daniels home.

And then there was Simmons.

She hadn’t spoken much since they’d returned to the base, putting the lowest amount of energy possible into social interaction. She hadn’t told anyone what had happened while Hydra had her and Fitz, but she had barely been holding it together, and Bobbi was sure that she wasn’t the only one with some disturbing suspicions.

These were exactly the sorts of thoughts that Bobbi was hoping to punch out into a bag. Reliving the past 24 hours wasn’t helpful to anyone. Clearing her head and thinking of the next 24 hours, instead, would be far more productive.

But she never made it to the training room. Halfway there, she passed the med wing, where there was light pooling out from underneath the door.

Bobbi stopped outside, straining her ears to hear if there was anyone inside, or if it was just a matter of someone forgetting to turn the light off when they were finished. For a few moments there was nothing, but just as she was about to decide that it must’ve just been someone being forgetful (frankly, most likely Hunter), she heard movement from inside.

Curious, Bobbi raised her hand and lightly knocked on the door.

The noise from inside stopped instantly. Whoever was in there clearly hadn’t wanted to be interrupted.

“It’s Bobbi,” Bobbi spoke quietly, so as to not disturb anyone else who may be nearby, “Everything alright in there?”

The silence ticked on for longer, until a small voice responded, “...Everything’s fine. Go back to sleep.”

A few things pointed towards that being untrue. The suspicious silence. Not wanting to be caught. The simple fact of being in a med room at 3am. But what made the lie most blatant to Bobbi was the fact that she knew that the person who’d told it- Simmons- wouldn’t typically avoid spending time with her.

Bobbi thought back to those disturbing suspicions she’d had, and with a sick feeling in her gut realised that she knew exactly why Simmons was here at this time.

“I’m coming in,” Bobbi pushed the door open before Simmons had a chance to protest.

The room was a mess, which was in itself surprising, considering the many systems that Simmons had in place, and her tendency to preferring an organised workspace. The state of the room signalled frantic and distressed movements, and Simmons current state certainly suggested that.

Simmons looked much the same as she had the last Bobbi had seen her- barely holding it together. She sent Bobbi a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes, and Bobbi shut the door behind her. It was unlikely that anyone else would stumble upon them at this time, but after yesterday it definitely wasn’t impossible. Bobbi would prefer them not to be interrupted right now.

“Show me.”

Simmons turned around, fussing over the mess over the counter behind her. Giving her an excuse not to meet Bobbi’s gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. You know, it’s very late- you should be asleep.”

“So should you.”

“Ah, no. Someone has to tidy this up. Fitz would have a heart attack if he saw it in this state.”

Bobbi wondered whether Simmons was referring to the room or herself.

“Simmons.” Bobbi spoke firmly, her tone causing Simmons to still, “You don’t need to talk about it. If you’re not ready to say what happened, that’s  _ fine _ . But you do need to let me see it, and treat it. I don’t think you’re in a position to do that yourself.”

Simmons clenched her fist tightly around the package of bandages she was holding and swallowed thickly, “...Fine.”

It took her another moment to calm herself enough to walk over to the examination bed, where she sat and, after further hesitation, raised her shirt.

Bobbi kept her expression under control, being careful not to give away how she was feeling out of a worry of Simmons misinterpreting it as judgement or pity, but she couldn’t suppress the mix of horror and anger that rose up at the sight of her friends injuries.

Simmons must have been operating on pure adrenaline. Bobbi suspected that the only reason she was willing to accept help now was because it was beginning to wear off.

Bobbi turned around, making her way through the mess to find what she’d need. With antiseptic and bandages, she turned back around and began to work in silence.

This wouldn’t be a permanent fix- both Bobbi and Simmons knew this. In the morning, Simmons would have to be checked out by an actual medical doctor. But this would do for now and, with any luck, would help to show Simmons that it was okay to ask for help.

Still, even though Bobbi couldn’t magic away Simmons physical injuries, they would heal. Bobbi was more concerned for Simmons mental stability- she knew better than anyone how a trauma like this could affect someone. No matter how strong Simmons was, this wasn’t something she could walk away with without scars.

But there was a time and place to talk about it- the night after it happened may not be that time. Bobbi also knew that pushing too far, too fast would only hold Simmons back in the long run.

There was no easy way to get past this.

Even though Bobbi knew better than to ask Simmons for the details of what happened, there was one thing she needed to know. “Does Fitz have injuries like these?”

Simmons shook her head. “No.” Then a flash of anxiety crossed her face. “I don’t think so. I didn’t ask. We haven’t talked. Not properly.”

“I’ll make sure someone checks him out in the morning.” Really, they should have all been checked out immediately, but in the chaos a lot of things hadn’t followed protocol.

“Thank you.”

They fell into silence again.

Bobbi reached for a pair of scissors to cut the excess bandage, and noticed something on the counter. Previously, it had been obscured by a pile of medical supplies, but apparently they’d given way while Bobbi had been gathering what she needed.

Bobbi nodded to the gun. “That yours?”

Simmons followed her gaze, looking at the gun with a strange expression. “Yes. I…” She sighed. “I know the base is safe. But I thought…”

“You don’t need to explain yourself. I get it.” Bobbi smiled, “You didn’t see me after I got out of surgery- I was a mess. Wouldn’t go anywhere without a way to defend myself for the first few weeks.”

“It’s not the same.” Simmons spoke harshly.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no,” She stopped, considering her words this time. “What he did to you, that was… that was evil. Monstrous. Torture. You can’t compare it to what happened to me.”

Realising what Simmons was getting at, Bobbi stopped. “For a genius, you really are…”

“Look, Simmons, don’t compare things like that. What happened to you- this? It was torture, and it doesn’t come in a sliding scale of ‘not so bad’ to ‘evil and monstrous’. It’s  _ all _ evil and monstrous. It’s all traumatising. And I’m going to compare it to what happened to me, because it  _ is _ the same.”

Simmons blinked, and with a lurch to her stomach Bobbi realised that she was trying not to cry. She almost wanted to unsay what she’d said, but knew that Simmons had needed to hear it.

“Are we done?” Simmons asked quietly.

“We are,” Bobbi replied, “On two conditions.”

Simmons didn’t respond, and Bobbi took that as permission to continue.

“Condition one. Take these, and get some sleep. I’ll cover for you if you sleep in.” Bobbi held out a container of sleeping tablets, which Simmons accepted. “Condition two. Find me in a week- or sooner, if you need to- so we can talk about this. I didn’t have anyone who understood it. I don’t want you to have to feel like that.”

Simmons nodded slowly, and Bobbi stepped back. “Then we’re done here.”

Simmons pocketed the tablets and slid off the bed, heading towards the door. As she stood on the threshold, about to disappear off, she looked back at Bobbi, anxiously meeting her eyes. “Thank you, Bobbi.”

Bobbi smiled encouragingly in response. “You’ve got nothing to thank me for, Simmons.”

Bobbi watched as the younger scientist left, and stayed standing there for a few more moments, before getting to work with cleaning up the mess she’d left behind. She was right, after all, Fitz likely would have a heart attack if he saw the room in this state, for a whole host of reasons.

In the end, Bobbi ended up completely missing her date with the punching bag, but she managed to get what she’d wanted anyway. Looking to the future, she was determined to help Simmons process this- and, maybe, she could process her own baggage at the same time.


End file.
